


Princess Charming

by yukiartsa



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: M/M, amazing i know, but for now it's porn WITH plot, i love writing about these two idk why, it's an au wow, might build onto the au more, these two are my new crack pairing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-25
Updated: 2017-05-25
Packaged: 2018-11-04 16:04:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10994286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yukiartsa/pseuds/yukiartsa
Summary: "Princess" or not, Broly still had his reasons.





	Princess Charming

**Author's Note:**

> explanation of this au as bluntly as possible:
> 
> it's fantasy-ish, nothing ridiculous or over-the-top, though. instead of planets, there's kingdoms, primarily the kingdom of vegeta. trunks is considered to be a great fucking child because he isn't just a bloodhound, he has brains, so, for his safety, he's kept at the top of a (korin's) tower to be saved by the "legendary" super saiyan.
> 
> the reason he's there is because frieza (a dickhead in this au, if you couldn't guess) took down the kingdom of vegeta, and wiped out a majority of the saiyan race -- save for the obvious people who don't have much importance at the moment. so the super saiyan is supposed to save trunks, who will have the strength to defeat frieza, and the hero will basically become the king (they had to sweeten the deal somehow).
> 
> however, prior to the kingdom's demise, paragus, vegeta's royal advisor, is almost killed alongside broly (like the actual film, but it's the whiny midget we all know and love doing the killing, not his dad), and he wants revenge, so he raises broly to save trunks and in turn, take the throne, produce an heir and basically kill vegeta and his bloodline.
> 
> broly is (somewhat) obsessed with trunks, and is dedicated to saving trunks, but paragus, having never met trunks properly, classifies him as **"princess"** trunks, and he's viewed that way by everyone who doesn't fucking know him, so broly's got a huge crush on a guy who he believed was a girl for the longest time, and made a personal vow to make trunks his mate -- and of course, shit has to get in the way.

* * *

Legend spoke of a princess trapped in a tower that sat among the heavens; a princess who would lead the Saiyan race back to its former glory, with her extensive knowledge and great strength, from a human mistress for a mother, and her father, ruler of the once proud kingdom of Vegeta.

It was said the princess was awaiting to be rescued by a myth, a Saiyan warrior who had ascended past his limits to become the legendary Super Saiyan; together, these two would restore the kingdom of Vegeta, overthrow Frieza, the tyrant who had wiped out almost every Saiyan in the kingdom, and take the throne with the warrior as her husband, the new king.

Many tales had been spread about the princess in question; some said she had hair like lavender, others said she smelt of fresh strawberries. She was depicted with beautiful locks, courtesy of her Saiyan blood, but the delicate features of her human mother framed her grace and purity. She was said to be strong — even as a girl — and could fight on her own if she had to, and that she was level-headed, but brave.

This princess was never given a name that people could recall, due to a decade of rumours and isolation. She’d barely been seen by the public, and all these descriptions were based on witnesses blessed with her presence.

She had been confined to a great tower that was said to of been built by the gods themselves. Only a Super Saiyan had the strength to make it the top, it seemed; many wannabes — Saiyan and otherwise — had tried, and none had succeeded thus far.

And yet, one such Saiyan had made good progress ascending the tower; travelling at rapid speed, without hesitation, and reached the top of the tower after almost three months. It had been an arduous task, but one he had sought to fulfil nonetheless.

Broly stood upon the edge of the highest floor of the tower, titled “Kami’s Lookout”. It was said that Saiyans who could scale the tower would meet with the gods and receive their training and guidance, but this belief had fallen once Frieza had taken down the kingdom. Yet, he knew he was searching for a proclaimed goddess; he felt the ki from inside the domed building, a strength that only a Saiyan could possess.

It paled in comparison to Broly’s, of course. The Super Saiyan had reached a stage considered to be a legend, and his flaming green hair was enough indication of this. He exerted raw power; the ground beneath him cracked and shuddered with every step he took.

“Princess Trunks…” He’d uttered the name for so long, that he was surprised he could still remember his own name. His father had told him about the king and his heir constantly, even after Frieza took control of the kingdom. Paragus had been Vegeta’s advisor, and his encounters with the royal family were extensive, and the most reliable source of information.

Paragus had raised his once timid, solemn son into the goliath he was now, constantly reminding Broly of his one goal: he wanted to exact revenge upon Vegeta for almost murdering him and his son, due to the newborn’s immense power level. It was this pure hatred for the king that had lead to Broly growing up into a mindless warrior, who had no real desires of his own—

—save for one. The desire to have his way with the princess he’d dreamt of for an eternity; the legend who was expected to overthrow Frieza, the half-caste said to be stronger than her father. The thought excited him, taking advantage of a being as strong as the king, a man that Paragus hadn’t been able to stand up to.

As he approached the domed building, the ki presence became stronger, clearer; she’d sensed him, had halted all movement, waiting to meet with a legend she thought would never come.

The princess was inside of a chamber locked from the outside; the door was easy to rip off its hinges, and a bright light flooded Broly’s vision. He was forced to turn away, but only momentarily, as the person he’d been searching for, finally came out.

She was beyond anything Broly had thought possible.

Silky hair like lavender, the smell of strawberries wafting around her, it was without a doubt, Princess Trunks. She had no sign of weakness or age in her face; eyes sharp, lips soft, and dressed in a denim blue jacket over a black singlet, matching pants, and a sword sheathed on his back, her figure was slim, nothing over the top or effeminate, and Broly’s expectations had been surpassed by the sight.

“You’re…” Trunks spoke softly, although her voice lacked any signs of femininity, but her eyes, raking over Broly, were that of an innocent soul. “You’re the one who saved me?”

“Hn.” Broly hadn’t planned anything special to say to her, and even if he had, it would’ve been forgotten about once he laid eyes upon her.

“I’m Trunks — but you probably already knew that…” She blushed faintly, turning away shyly. “Who are you?”

Broly’s lips twisted into a cruel smirk; he wasn’t used to small talk like this. Trunks’ calm demeanour wavered, and before she could reach for her blade, Broly had taken a step toward her. The princess instinctively stepped back, but Broly was quick to shorten the distance between them, and had Trunks against the wall, sword tossed aside, and arms over his head.

He pressed his face against Trunks’ neck, taking in her smell. “Broly,” he answered in a raspy voice, “my name is Broly, Princess Trunks~”

Although Trunks shivered at the sudden affection, she stiffened upon hearing the last bit of the sentence. “Wait, Princess?”

The Super Saiyan’s free hand ran underneath Trunks’ singlet; she didn’t have the curvaceous features other women did, but it mattered little to Broly. Those inflated flaps on a woman’s chest only made them more vulnerable, in his opinion, so the lack thereof was appreciated.

“B-Broly, wait…”

“Princess…” It seemed her hero wasn’t willing to listen to whatever she had to say just yet, kissing and biting her neck to keep Trunks quiet.

Although his partner wished to vocalise an issue that Broly hadn’t caught onto yet, the Saiyan wouldn’t have it. He’d been waiting too long for this, and he wouldn’t be satisfied until he’d had his way. Trunks clearly felt the same, as she couldn’t muster the words to stop him from going any further.

“B-Broly, please—“

“Silence.” Broly refused to back down from this, and he knew Trunks needed this even more than he did; the musk in the air was thick and intoxicating, like the scent of fresh berries in the Princess’ hair.

“Broly, I— Ahnnn…”

Trunks’ response died, his voice cracking from the moans he was releasing from deep within. Broly’s fingers had found her nipples, and were using this vulnerability to shut the princess up. He continued to mark her throat with kisses and bites, grinding against her.

“Heh, I just met you, Princess Trunks, but you’ve got me like this already.”

“Mmm, B-Broly, just wait a second, please!“

Trunks hadn’t the strength to push Broly away, and he growled lowly, irritated at how she was being so resistant to this whole plight. He finally gave in, pulling away from Trunks, but made sure his annoyance was clear, his grip on her arms tight.

Although the expression on her face was just as beautiful as she was, he had to show some interest in whatever was stopping them from fucking. It had to be pretty important for Trunks to be so insistent on the matter, but if it made little difference, he’d fuck her like a whore at this point, his erection begging for attention.

“Alright…” Trunks swallowed, looking at the ground. “You keep calling me “Princess”, why?”

“Because you are Princess Trunks, Princess.” He answered flatly.

“I—what?” Trunks looked shocked. “Since when was I a princess? Did Dad have something to do with this?”

“My father was the royal advisor,” Broly growled, “he told me about the heir to the kingdom of Vegeta — about you, Princess Trunks.”

“Paragus? But why would he think—“ The answer was clear. “I, Broly…”

“Princess.” He felt that this was getting nowhere, and he was tempted to just fuck Trunks right now to shut him up, pound into his virginal pussy—

“—I’m a guy, Broly. I’ve always had long hair, and Dad used to pick on me about it, calling me “Princess”. I don’t think Paragus knew any different…”

The Saiyan stilled, letting this sink into his brain; so, the princess he’d been told about for so long…was actually a guy? He was expected to have a child with a guy? He let go of Trunks’ arms, trying to process this information. All this time, he’d been lusting for a guy? It wasn’t like he was opposed to this (gender meant nothing to a Saiyan, strength was what mattered most), but the entire reason he was here was because of his father, was it not?

Was there any real reason for him to be here, other than to fulfil his father’s wishes?

“Broly?” Trunks — the newly revealed male — spoke in a worried tone. He couldn’t read Broly’s mind, but the look spreading across his features told him more than enough; something was irking the Saiyan, making him doubt this whole endeavour.

It wasn’t as if the giant could back out, either; there was nothing said in the tales and stories of the “princess” that had the warrior turning tail. Such an action was cowardly, unbefitting and shameful for a Saiyan. And besides, Trunks was supposed to be the one to take down Frieza. If Broly left him here, how long would it take until another Super Saiyan arrived? Would it ever happen again?

Reaching a decision, Broly’s figure relaxed. Trunks, unaware of what kind of resolution the Saiyan had reached, hadn’t moved from his place, watching Broly turn to him again, and resumed his earlier actions, albeit in a more feverish pace. He’d returned to littering Trunks’ necks with bites, his hand had gone under the half-caste’s singlet, and the musk was heavy in the air once again, as if nothing had changed.

“B-Broly? What are you—“

“Princess Trunks.”

“I told you, I’m not— ah…” Broly’s tail had slipped inside Trunks’ pants, pleasuring his throbbing cock.

“You’re my bitch now, Princess,” the Saiyan whispered against his skin, his other hand tugging at Trunks’ clothes. “You’re my slutty princess.”

Nothing had particularly changed, it seemed, other than the cleared up misconception of Trunks’ gender, but in general, it was a minor factor. Broly was still looking to fuck him, and the fact that he was a guy didn’t change his desires in the slightest. If anything, he was all the more eager to fuck Trunks, as his tail released a hypnotic musk that enveloped both of their senses.

“Ngh, Broly…” The half-caste mewled, having thrown his jacket away, and sought to be rid of all this excess clothing. His partner was all too aware of Trunks’ neediness; he could feel it, he could hear it, he could see it, and he loved it. Deciding to make this quick (but still make an impact upon his new lover), Broly let Trunks remove what he could amidst his heated moans, and with the Saiyan’s hands still on his body.

Trunks had thrown off his singlet and undid the zipper of his pants, before Broly’s patience was cut short, and he was attacked once again by the Saiyan. His lips crushed against Trunks, bodies grinding against each other, and it was obvious who had control this time; Broly had practically lifted Trunks up to get a better angle of his body, keeping him in place with brute force, and one knee that dug into his crotch.

Despite Trunks’ inexperience, he pulled at Broly’s hair amidst the kiss, as if scared that this delicious moment would end abruptly; there was no plans of stopping, not when his lover was practically ripping out his hair, digging blunt nails into his chest (he couldn’t reach Broly’s back), and kissing him with as much fervour as the Saiyan. It was hot, messy, and although it was mainly biting and sucking on the other’s tongue, it was like a drug.

Those moments when the princess would manage to let out a gasp for air, when he moaned at every touch, when he’d choke on his words (likely to be of praise), Broly savoured every moment of it. He had watched many beings, in many situations, collapse beneath him, begging, but none could compare to the sight of Trunks, the princess who was about to lose his virginity, the one person Broly had dreamt of for so long, come undone by his hand, the mere premise of it was something he thought to never be possible.

Yet, here, before him, Trunks was pinned to a wall (and several feet off of semi-solid ground), desperate as a whore, innocent as a child, and willing to be fucked by a monster, as if some sick fetish had arisen from deep within. Hell, Trunks might even have a masochistic side to him, and Broly was eager to see if he was right.

He finally forced himself parted from Trunks’ lips, and the half-caste looked almost hurt, but at the same time, curious for Broly’s reasoning. The Saiyan’s eyes racked over the dishevelled appearance of the princess — his princess — and was thoroughly pleased at the sight. If Trunks could muster the words, he’d likely be begging to suck Broly off, but as it stood, Trunks seemed to struggle with forming words in general, let alone asking to give his lover a blow job. The glimmer in his eyes spoke of his true desires, Broly noticed, and his lips curled into a smirk.

Lowering Trunks to the ground, the princess had to kneel with his legs at a right-angle, for his head to reach Broly’s crotch. From the half-caste’s point of view, the rest of the outside world had been taken away, and it was just Broly, only Broly, and himself. The Saiyan’s figure had blocked out almost all sight of the outside, so wherever Trunks attempted to look, he’d be met with his lover’s body; and even if he wished to look elsewhere, Broly’s tail appeared ready to angle his head — likely around his throat, in a chokehold — to force him to meet Broly’s sharp gaze.

Trunks hadn’t any fear to swallow as he pulled away at Broly’s garments. It was a rather basic layout, actually; aside from the red velvet cloth, his white, loose pants had a few buttons that were already straining from attempting to contain Broly’s dick. Trunks undid them, immediately met with a throbbing, wet piece of flesh that slapped his face, enjoying its freedom.

From above, Broly sighed in relief. It hadn’t been long since he relieved himself, yes, but his excitement of meeting the princess had resulted in blood flowing south at a rapid pace. It was already aching painfully when he’d finally placed his hands upon Trunks’, and he was surprised that the buttons hadn’t snapped at the pressure placed upon them.

Trunks, on the other hand, finally swallowed, admiring the sight of Broly’s dick, which he held in one hand. It fit well into the palm of his hand, but the weight and length of it was breath-taking, and he could already picture this thing in his ass, filling him to the brim.

“Impressed?” Broly’s voice interrupted Trunks’ thoughts, and his smirk widened once Trunks averted his eyes, embarrassed for staring so long.

“Y-Yeah, I guess…” Although he’d never compared himself to another man, he knew Broly was not normal, his size was not typical, but he still felt insignificant in terms of “manliness”. No wonder he was considered to be a princess.

Broly’s tail whipped around, and turned Trunks’ face, making him look straight at the Saiyan. “Heh. You certainly look pleased, Princess.” As if Broly knew his lover was waiting for permission, he continued with a purr. “I dedicated myself to you alone, Princess Trunks. Nobody else has had the privilege of tasting it. Nobody except you.”

The younger’s cheeks darkened at knowing he was the only one to be given this opportunity, and he repositioned himself, lead by Broly’s gaze, and the tail that stroked his chin invitingly. His lips brushed upon the tip, and he cautiously licked the burning flesh, rolling the taste of sweat and pre-cum on his tongue (all of which had a faint spicy tang to them).

Once Trunks had gotten used to his sample, Broly smirked from above, and prompted him to taste even more. “Show me how desperate you want to be fucked, my slutty Princess, suck and swallow every last drop from my cock.”

Broly hadn’t placed his hands in the younger’s hair — he wanted a clear view of his lover — and instead, they rested against the wall, his hips enticing Trunks, as he took the length into his mouth. It was bigger than it looked, and Trunks’ mouth was opened wide enough for his fist to sit in his mouth. Although he was nervous that he’d be unable to take on much of Broly’s length, the Saiyan’s hips thrusted forward, and Trunks had almost all of Broly in his mouth and throat; pubic hair tickled his face, veins pulsated in front of his hazy vision, and Broly watched with that smirk of his that had Trunks moaning around his lover, seeking to taste every last inch of him.

Trunks using his teeth wasn’t a problem for Broly — the younger hadn’t even the strength to cause real damage, he was a weakened puddle of sexual tension — and he relished in those moments that the half-caste had bitten down onto him, trying to swallow the built up pre-cum in his throat; the way his body shuddered as Broly’s dick twitched in anticipation, the way he’d whine as he struggled to taste everything at once, and the clouded, lust-driven eyes had stared at Broly, as if to emphasise how much he took pleasure in this.

At some point, Trunks had pulled his pants away, stroking his own length to relieve himself; although Broly was annoyed that Trunks was touching himself, rather than giving him the pleasure, in turn, his tail had found Trunks’ ass, and, soaking in the pre-cum from its earlier actions upon the younger’s dick, had rubbed in between the firm cheeks.

“I can’t let you have all the fun, Princess,” he growled (in a playful sense), watching Trunks seemingly accept Broly’s initiative, and he parted his ass cheeks to make the tail’s job easier of finding his entrance.

As soon as it felt his virginal hole, Trunks exhaled heavily; the appendage was a strange sensation, soft and furry to touch, but its movements were calculated, and not as rushed as the previous experiences Trunks had, fingering himself experimentally to gauge how it worked. An interesting endeavour, to say the least, and his body, more conformed to this than sucking dick, became lax.

With the younger relaxed, Broly’s tail had little trouble making progress inside of Trunks’ ass, and if he hadn’t been occupied jerking himself off (and holding onto Broly’s leg to stay up), he probably would’ve been spreading his ass cheeks to let the tail in further. The Saiyan’s lover was certainly quick to learn.

The second it stroked a small bump inside of Trunks, Broly knew he’d found what he was looking for; the half-caste’s eyes had widened, head falling back slightly, and his breaths became heavy. Broly smirked at the sight before him. “Beautiful.”

Trunks looked away momentarily, clearly embarrassed, but made no indication of giving a vocal reply. Instead, he sucked on Broly with more vigour, as if he had a sudden burst of energy flood his sense. He abandoned his own cock (he’d already come), gripping onto Broly’s legs to steady himself as he focused on pleasuring the Saiyan.

His dedication was clear; Trunks was desperate to be fucked, and he would only be satisfied when he couldn’t walk. Like a beast ready to attack its prey, Broly let out a primal growl from the back of his throat, unable to meet his lover’s gaze. His tail had taken a mind of its own because its master could hardly think straight; it stretched Trunks’ interior walls, which in turn seemed to make him all the more eager to get Broly to come.

Once his nails had dug into Broly’s skin, the Saiyan knew he was about to reach his climax, and he watched Trunks pull back slightly in response, until only the head of his cock was in the half-caste’s mouth. Broly let out a guttural moan, his body shaking as he emptied his juices into Trunks’ mouth. Even though he’d only taken the head in his mouth, the streams of white proved to be too much to take all at once, and Trunks withdrew midway, to have the remains splattered across his face and chest.

Trunks swallowed what he had built up, cheeks burning. Broly’s tail had stopped all movement and pulled itself out of his ass, whilst the Saiyan in question had his eyes shut, and his expression was impossible to read. It was, in the very least, a sign of pleasure, but the half-caste silently hoped Broly wouldn’t have their moment end so soon.

“Princess Trunks…” Broly finally looked to him, and the smile dancing upon his lips told of dark intentions; it made the half-caste shiver in anticipation. “You heard me earlier, Princess. Every last drop.”

If at all possible, Trunks’ cheeks had darkened, despite all the blood in his body flowing south at his words. With three fingers, Trunks begun to swab at the semen he could locate; most of it was sticky liquid that he couldn’t hold, but the large globs and tiny specks, he collected each one and sucked them off of his fingers, making a point to moan every time he licked another drop.

Broly, seemingly impressed with the job Trunks had done, moved away slightly, holding his own length to signal that they were at the final moment. “Stand up and press your body against the wall, Princess.” The half-caste obliged, although his knees buckled under his own weight. Broly hoisted Trunks’ legs to latch around his waist to make it easier on the younger, and he slowly entered Trunks, a pleasure he wouldn’t forget any time soon.

He planted kisses upon Trunks’ shoulder blades, often leaving a few bites as he did so, his tail wrapped around one of his lover’s ankles. His hands were occupied keeping Trunks’ other leg still (he’d likely be thrashing around at some) and feeling how hard the younger had gotten despite such a short amount of time.

“For a virgin, you seem to know exactly what I want, Princess,” Broly murmured against his skin, his thumb digging into the slit of Trunks’ cock. “It’s as if your body was sculpted for my pleasure, as if you were made to always be mine.”

Trunks’ sweaty palms groped at the wall, as if searching for something to hold onto. His chest was being ground against the brick walls, and the teasing pleasures he was receiving to the lower half of his body was distracting, that Trunks couldn’t muster a proper answer, other than moans and whimpers.

“Do you like that idea, Princess? Being mine?”

It seemed like Broly wouldn’t continue until he’d heard it from Trunks. “Y-Yes, Broly… I want to be yours…”

“You want to be my mate, Princess? You want me to fuck your pretty little ass whenever I see fit? You don’t want anyone else to touch you?”

Trunks’ head lolled back, as he tried to persist Broly to continue. “Nnh, Broly, please…”

“Tell me, Princess.” He bit hard into Trunks’ shoulder, lapping up the blood that spilled forth. “Do you want me to be the only one who can use you like this?”

“F-Fuck, yes, Broly…” The pain was a strange, delicious sensation to Trunks, who was intoxicated in pure lust and need.

“Do you want me to own your body always?”

“Broly, please… Y-Yes…” He shivered, as the Saiyan’s gradually began to move, but it lacked the exhilaration he yearned for.

“Do you want me to fuck you whenever and wherever I want?”

“Mmm, Broly, yes…”

“Do you want to surrender yourself to me?”

“Kami, Broly, fucking yes…”

“Do you want to be my mate, Princess Trunks.” His voice had dropped to a whisper, barely loud enough for Trunks to hear him. He’d almost completely pulled out of Trunks, awaiting an answer; he needed to hear an answer from him. He needed to know. He needed Trunks to be his mate.

The half-caste whined softly, biting his lip. “B-Broly…”

“Hm?” He noticed Trunks trying to meet his gaze, and he helped his lover turn over, so they made eye contact. Although Trunks looked beautiful with his rosy, tear-stained cheeks, his abused, bleeding lips, and his soft, wandering gaze, Broly awaited to hear Trunks speak.

Arms looped around Broly’s neck, Trunks hid his face in the Saiyan’s shoulder. “Please, Broly…” He whispered, kissing his neck and nuzzling his cheek where his tears had fallen onto his lover’s skin.

“—I want to be yours alone, Broly. Make me yours, please…”

Broly froze in response. He hadn’t expected this to happen. He’d only dreamt of it, and even then, it seemed like such an impossibility. But… This was real. (Princess) Trunks wanted to be his mate. It had once been beyond rational thinking, but now, hearing those words, it made that once stupid belief, all the more true.

Although he wanted to say “forgive me” for the actions to follow, the phrase wasn’t in his vocabulary, and he could only throw Trunks back against the wall, shattering bricks (and possibly bones) with great force, and before Trunks could speak, Broly had slammed back inside of him.

His hands, now holding Trunks’ hips, lifted Trunks’ body back up, like a piston, and brought him back down with his overwhelming brute strength. His tail had found the half-caste’s neglected dick, gripping it tightly, as Broly’s head sat in the crook of his lover’s neck, just as he had done.

“Princess— Trunks— Is— _**Mine!**_ ” He found himself chanting into Trunks’ ear like a mantra, every word interrupted by his thrusts.

“Y-Yes, ahhhn! Mmmm, B-Broly, fuck, I belong to you!” The younger could only cry out in response, his words barely conceivable through the sound of skin slapping skin, and his moans echoing around the pair.

They came instantaneously. Trunks, amidst a daze, still screaming out praise to Broly, had come when his tail had squeezed the base, forcing him to empty out his juices upon Broly’s chest, which became smeared with their sweat and the pheromones in the air. The Saiyan had let out a roar that belonged to a beast of myth, silencing himself as he dug his teeth into Trunks’ flesh once again. The half-caste’s body jolted with pleasure, and once Broly had finished, he lowered Trunks to the ground, semen trickling out of his ass.

The mark left on Trunks’ shoulder was comparable to a shark’s: large, obvious, but, it hadn’t ripped off flesh or bone, and the bloodshed was something even a half-caste could recover from, nothing serious. As for his mental state, he looked — to put it simply — buzzed. The lust hadn’t faded from his eyes, and although he’d probably be stiff (this was his first time, and Broly had fucked him like he was an experienced whore, begging to be ripped apart), his calm demeanour and blissful aura made no indication that he was in pain. If anything, he was still high on the sense of euphoria.

Broly smirked, fixing up his clothing. Perhaps they’d be able to do it in a more comfortable location, and not against a wall; they could fuck doggy-style, or Broly could taste his partner’s dick. The possibilities were endless, and it made the wait all the more exciting for him. But, he knew he couldn’t let Trunks lie in a puddle of his semen, so he tore off a scrap of his clothing, cleaned Trunks and himself as best as possible (they’d made a huge fucking mess), and dressed his lover, as if he were a doll.

He threw the now fully dressed Trunks onto his shoulder, grabbed his sword (he’d almost forgotten about that thing), and gave one last look to Kami’s Lookout. His lips curled up into a smirk, picturing some divine being(s) watching them, perhaps grimacing, or unable to witness their lewd acts.

Broly couldn’t give two shits what a bunch of myths thought. All he cared about was his lover, asleep on his shoulder, and his facial features so at ease, that one wouldn’t believe he’d had mind-blowing sex only moments earlier. His face then was for Broly, and only Broly.

Not even the gods above deserved to see it; Trunks was for Broly, only, now and forever.


End file.
